Love Will Tear Us Apart
by SummerJane11
Summary: Burgeoning artist Magdalene Grey has given up. After a failed suicide attempt she is taken into a plot that will destroy Gotham and suddenly she isn't so bored anymore. Her captor brings back memories she had wished to forget but power is intoxicating. Love, life, sex and polaroids. How will the already mentally unstable girl survive the man who wants to watch her burn. Bane/OC
1. When Routine Bites Hard

**There is no point in resisting anymore. I really want to write an ALL BANE story (with some appearances from my favorite beat cop). So here... It… Goes...**

**WHEN ROUTINE BITES HARD**

The first thing I remembered when I woke up was being told that I was rich, filthy rich, the richest living artist in Gotham, in the United States even. I wondered what the fuck they were talking about. I wondered why I was still here. Why I was still alive. I hadn't wanted to be. That's why I took the pills and slit my wrists. That's why I had written all my goodbyes into one simple note, which I had left beside my bed. _I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Love always, Magdalene. _That's what I had written while falling into a drug-induced haze. I couldn't remember anything after that except turning on my record player and allowing The Rolling Stone's "You Can't Always Get What You Want" play me into oblivion. But then I woke up.

For days I couldn't find the strength the move, to get out of bed, or even to look anyone in the eyes. I wasn't embarrassed I was angry. I was angry that my boyfriend had come home 5 hours early from his business trip. I was angry that he hadn't called to tell me that he was leaving on the earlier flight. But I was sad that he still thought that I could be saved when I couldn't. I didn't love him. I didn't love anyone and I hoped that everyone would pay me the same courtesy. But indifference was apparently hard to come by in human beings. They either loved you or hated you. And right now they loved me. I was the talk of the town. I was the biggest thing that had happened in Gotham since the Joker. I was the _freak_ now, the latest fascination.

I slipped on my Ray Bans as I stepped into the late afternoon light. It wasn't the sun that I had to worry about though it was the camera flashes. The paparazzi were swarmed outside of the hospital just waiting for me to be released. I knew I was going to be spread on the cover of every piece of shit magazine and tabloid in this city for the next couple weeks at least. I didn't acknowledge the cameras as I got into the Range Rover that was waiting for me. Tinted windows were my favorite feature of any car and I was grateful especially to the ones I was behind now.

"Maggie." Josh put his hand over mine as he gave the driver the address to my apartment, "I mean do you want to go home, I'd understand if you didn't, we couldn't always go to my place."

"No. I don't want to go home." I closed my eyes tiredly, "Fuck, what time is it?" I asked.

"7." Josh informed me.

"I'm hungry." I told him and gave him the name of the best restaurant in town. The restaurant that Bruce Wayne now owned, I heard he bought it so that two supermodels could swim in the fountain. I smirked at the thought.

"You sure you want to go out tonight, cause I mean the press is going to go crazy and I don't think you need all the attention right now…" I ran a hand threw my hair and ruffled it a bit, "I don't think you're really dressed for the occasion either baby."

"Who cares?" I asked flatly, looking down at my ripped jeans and loose Joy Division shirt (whose sleeves I'd long ago cut off), "Haven't you heard? I'm really rich now. I can do whatever I want." Josh was silent but I knew he wanted so desperately to yell and scream at me about how stupid I'd been. I knew he was dying to say something about the incident, or maybe about the note. But he didn't have the guts and that made me care for him even less.

"Sweetie…" He started to say but I cut him off.

"Don't call me that." I snapped. After that the car ride was silent. He seemed at a loss for words, thinking that I was too on edge to have a civil conversation with. He was right. We arrived at the restaurant a while later to see, as predicted, a row of paparazzi standing there, just waiting for a celebrity worth taking a photo of. I didn't wait for the chauffeur to come around and I opened the door and stepped out of the car quickly.

"Oh my god!" I heard one of the man shout. Then the swarm of questions started. _"Magdalene! Magdalene! Look over here! Why'd you do it? How are you feeling? Do you think your recent suicide attempt propelled the increased price of your artwork? _Reporters, if you could even call them that, started shoving microphones or recorders in my face waiting for an answer. _Why'd you do it? _

"Tell me why?"I stopped for a moment and in front of the woman who had asked that particular question.I laughed coldly and looked directly into the TV camera that was recording my every move.

"I don't like Mondays." I responded simply and then moved pushed past her into the restaurant. The hostess came running up to me with a big smile plastered on her face.

"Miss Gray, I have a table ready for you right now. Is that back of the restaurant okay? I thought you might like a little privacy." The girl asked.

"That's perfect." Josh responded for me. The hostess nodded once and guided us to our table. It was hard to ignore the gaping mouths or the stares that followed us all the way there. However someone was actually arrogant enough to stand up and block our way.

"Daggett." I smirked and I looked him over. The big shot corporal man and I were rather well acquainted though I didn't particularly like him. I had done a sculpture commission for Gotham city about a year ago, when my name was taking off and being circulated as the "next big thing" in the upper-class social scene. Daggett had been the one to cut the red tape at the opening and the one to not so subtlety feel me up at the after-party.

"Magdalene." He smiled widely. I hated that he thought we were on a first name basis when we clearly weren't, "It's so wonderful to see you again. You look lovely." He said slyly and glanced down at the white bandages wrapped around my wrists, "How is your recovery going?" He feigned concern.

"Well it was going well, but you remind me of the reasons I wanted to end it all in the first place." I said wickedly. He just laughed it off.

"I'm so sorry that I can't ask you two to join us but unfortunately this is a business meeting, nothing you'd be interested in."

"Thinking up new ways to exploit the people of Gotham?"

"You could say that." He winked at me. I just smiled and shook my head slowly.

"It's always a pleasure Daggett." She said as she started walking away. The hostess and Josh were still standing there awkwardly, waiting for me to finish my conversation.

"Oh no, the pleasure is all mine, trust me my dear." He answered. I rolled her eyes and continued to walk away without even glancing back.

"What was all that about?" Josh asked as we were finally installed at our table, with menus placed in front of us promptly.

"Just John fucking Daggett, he's a real shark in the business world." I spoke harshly, "We met last year and now he's always just around, invites me to all his parties knowing very well that I won't show up. I don't think he even wants me to show up, just an excuse to call me or to send flowers." I scoffed, "He's relentless." Josh looked over at where Daggett sat with his eyes narrowed.

"He shouldn't be harassing you like that."

"I wouldn't exactly call it harassing Joshua." I pronounced his name slowly, I know he hated it when I called him that but he didn't have the chance to say anything because the waiter arrived just a second later.

After we were done dinner I realized that it was time to do something that I had been dreading since I stepped into the restaurant.

"Josh, I'm breaking up with you." I told him bluntly. His eyes shot up from his plate and he sighed deeply.

"I thought you might be." His shoulders fell, "Thank god." I raised an eyebrow at him and took a swig of the red wine in front of me, "I love you Maggie, I really do but I know that I'm not the right guy for you. I knew the second that you stepped into the car today. I knew it the moment they told me that you were going to live. If you had died I would have gone on thinking that you were truly the only girl for me and vice versa till the end of time. But you're too… wild. I can't handle you. I know you don't want to be handled. But you need someone who can take _that_ part of you with a grain of salt."

"What part of me are you referring to?"

"The sadistic part." Josh whispered and stared me right in the eye, "There's something in you baby, it's cold and it's dark and it makes you crazy sometimes. I love you, I love you so much but it's clear to me now that I can't protect you from yourself. If you had died I would have never forgiven myself. That note you left… it was so cold. It would've been my fault. But it's not my fault, it's yours and I can't take the pressure anymore."

"You're right." I told him and put my hands on top of his, "You know this isn't the end for us, right? When I say that you're still my best friend I mean it."

"I know, and I know that you care about me in your own way." He chuckled, "Maybe this is the best step for us."

"Yeah, maybe."

"I'll miss the sex though." He said as an afterthought. I laughed.

"Yeah, me too."

_Bane watched the television screen with little interest, flipping through the news channels aimlessly. Eventually something caught his attention. It was a picture of a girl leaving what looked like a hospital. _

_ "19 year old art prodigy, Magdalene Gray, or just Magdalene as she's known in the art world, was released from Gotham General today. The attempted suicide of the young artist ended in her spending a week in the hospital both in the ICU and under suicide watch." The news reporter announced, "Ms. Gray did not at all seem ashamed of her scars though and made no effort to hide the bandages covering her wrists. Sources say that Magdalene was found in her bed by her boyfriend, Joshua Stone, overdosed on prescription painkillers as well as with both her wrists slit, late Monday night." Bane raised an eyebrow in mild interest. The girl was beautiful. There was no denying that. Obviously troubled though, "The starlet refused to comment upon leaving the hospital but did not hold back when she was spotted entering a restaurant in downtown Gotham this evening." They ten played a clip of this girl getting out of a car and walking calmly through a sea of reporters all snapping pictures. A female reporter shouted, "Tell me why?" Which made the girl stop in her tracks. _

_ "I don't like Mondays." She answered with a lazy smirk before entering the restaurant. Bane's laugh boomed throughout the room. A few henchmen turned their heads curiously but he ignored them and continued to watch the report._

_ "Magdalene Gray of course was also in the news recently for the skyrocketing number of her work that has been sold during the last week. Prices on anything done by her have increased dramatically since the suicide attempt. A great portion of her work is currently being displayed at the Gotham City Art Gallery and business correspondents now claim that she is the richest living artist under 20 in the world." The news then showed some of the work that had sold, mainly paintings and one sculpture, he remarked immediately that she was extremely talented. Her work was a little off, he couldn't put it into any category and perhaps that reflected the girl, "The question that everyone is asking is, how will her new billionaire status affect her mental health?" With that Bane flicked off the television._

Josh was a little hesitant to leave me but I assured him that I wouldn't try anything in the near future. I didn't feel that need to die at the moment. The urge to end my life hadn't gone away but it was rather dormant. I was too tired. I just wanted to go to sleep and then spend the entire next day in bed. I opened the front door of my penthouse apartment and looked around. Everything was pretty much exactly where I had left it. A light on the phone was flashing red so I knew that I had messages. However, I ignored it and went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of cold coke. The apartment was cold so I turned on the fireplace and let it heat my bones. I grabbed a vase from on top of the mantel and flipped it over. Two bags of cocaine tumbled out and I smiled, glad that Josh hadn't found them while he was in here alone. It was time to face my bedroom. The first thing I noticed was that the sheets must have been replaced. I walked over to the bed and pealed back the clean white covering to reveal a huge red spot underneath. The blood had soaked into the mattress leaving large circles of red where my wrists had been. I put the sheet back where it belonged and got into bed, still fully dressed. Flicking off the light I turned my eyes to the ceiling. I had thought that this ceiling would be the last thing I would ever see. But it hadn't been. Tomorrow was another day that I would have to face. It wasn't all over for me, at least not yet.

That morning I got my car out of the garage. My white Audi R8. The only car I had ever loved. I bought in a couple of months back and had always dreamed of taking long road trips to the beach for the day with the love of my life. Of course it had never happened. Those were just fantasies that I was much too lazy and cynical to follow through on. I drove around for a while before ending up at the Gotham City Art Gallery, one of the biggest and most prestigious art galleries in the world. I saw my face on the large poster outside as well as one of my better-known paintings. The photograph of me was an old one, taken when I was just starting off as an artist by my boyfriend at the time, Javier (who was a wannabe photographer). I was wearing a long oversized blue button up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to my elbows and I was holding a brush in one hand. Red paint dripped down from the brush like blood and I remembered that there was puddle of it on the ground afterwards that we had never cleaned up. My hair was messy and wild and I was focused on something that you couldn't see in the shot. I knew that it was our living room wall that I was painting. We had stayed together in that apartment for 2 years before it all fell apart. Before I got famous and he didn't, before resentment set in. I wonder why he let them use that photo for as the promotional picture for my show. That was something that he would have never done while we were together. He would have considered it an insult even to offer it. Maybe he was short on cash. Maybe he had gotten over it. Maybe he was done trying to be an artist and would sell off anything he had done to the highest bidder, telling all his office friends that it was just a stupid phase. I don't know. We didn't keep in touch. I parked the car across the street and set out. I was wearing some torn jeans and an oversized cardigan over a simple tank top. Of course I never really left the house without my baseball cap and sunglasses, which usually was enough to hide my identity for the average busy citizen. It was early Tuesday afternoon so I didn't expect that many people to be in the Gallery anyways. I walked in and discretely paid for my admission. I think the clerk recognized me but she didn't say anything as she handed over the ticket. And then I was there. Looking at my life's "accomplishments". I felt like crying. I wasn't exactly sure why but I did. What looked like an all-boys school group was already circulating the exhibit and I listened with a little amusement as the tour guide tried to explain one of my pieces.

"The use of red here is meant to express a sort of repressed pain—" The woman said. _Wrong_, I thought with a _repressed_ giggle, "_Magdalene_ was going through a very difficult time of her life when she produced this. She was struggling through poverty and dedicated all of her money to art supplies." _And drugs…_I added mentally. No, that time had been good and simple. The red, in this painting, was purely representative of my sexual appetite at the time. Javier, though crazy jealous and explosive at times, had been a passionate lover. I wandered away from the tour group thinking about how quite boring all this should seem to young boys like that, all of whom looked poor and angry. I walked through the next room until I reached a photograph of Joshua. I had dabbled a little in photography after they started calling me a prodigy and I felt uninspired by paint. This one was a blown up candid shot of Joshua but his face had been scratched out by my nails viciously. He hated this piece. He had liked the photograph when I had developed it, in the studio that I had just bought (complete with my own dark room), but we had gotten in a fight a week later and I had been so mad that I clawed his face out of it. Apparently that gave it depth. I just saw irrational rage.

"She's talented isn't she?" Someone said from behind me. I turned to see a good-looking guy with an adorable smile on his face. I had seen him in my peripheral vision with the tour group before. I shrugged in response to his question, "You don't think so?"

"I think she's overrated." I replied coolly. He laughed.

"Look at this though, c'mon this is one of my favorites." He pointed to the large photograph in front of us, "Don't you feel just total uninhibited fury radiating off of it."

"I see a girl who didn't understand why her boyfriend was so mad at her for snorting cocaine at 3 in the morning." I shot back and turned around to meet his eyes. He gave me a puzzled look and opened his mouth to say something before someone interrupted.

"Oh my god." We both looked up to see the shocked expression of the tour guide who was staring at me in shock, "You're—well you're—" The woman cleared her throat awkwardly, "You're Magdalene Gray." The woman finally spit out. I looked at the ground with a half smile on my face before pulling off my sunglasses and cap then turning to the woman and smirking, "What an honor it is to have you here Ms. Gray!" The woman exclaimed. The man who I had been talking to before looked utterly taken aback.

"Sorry you're kind of interrupting." I said pointedly, tilting my head towards the man, "If you don't mind…"

"Oh no, of course. But please if you have time later, I think the children would love to hear your commentary on some of your work." The woman said. The boys behind her didn't look at all like they knew who I was or gave a fuck for that matter.

"I can see that, they're practically bursting with anticipation." I laughed. The tour guide turned a deep shade of red and ushered the children away to another painting. Then I turned back to the man.

"Overrated huh?" He said with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Totally." I responded with a smile.

"Maybe you're right." He responded. He wasn't smiling anymore, "That was rude what you said to that woman. She obviously admires you."

"She shouldn't."

"Maybe not but—"

"No, not maybe no, she shouldn't. Nobody should. Especially not kids." I spoke harshly, "And I tend to be rude. It's in my '_I don't care about anyone but myself' _nature."

"I thought that was all just appearances." He said.

"Maybe it is." I answered, "Maybe I'm just keeping up appearances right now. I don't even know your name, you could a reporter for all I know." He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and showed me his badge."

"Officer John Blake." I read aloud slowly then I looked up at him, "That thing I said about the cocaine, I was just kidding." He barked out a laugh and closed his wallet, shoving it back into his pocket, "What are you doing here officer?"

"I volunteer at a boy's home. I thought I could try to teach them some culture. I don't think they appreciate it that much."

"I don't blame them." I looked around the room with a sad expression, "This is my life. It's weird looking at it all laid out like this, people discussing it as if they know me when they clearly don't." I looked around again, "I'm too young for this."

"Much too young…" John smiled, "A prodigy." I looked up at him and I could see that he was a truly good man.

"You know, you don't generally see a lot of genuine people, especially not in this city. But you're definitely one of the few." I smiled at him. We stared at each other for a moment in silence.

"Do you want to take me through it?" He asked.

"Through what?"

"You're life." He clarified gesturing around the room. I looked down and smiled sadly at him, shaking my head.

"No, not today." I answered, "You're a good person, I don't want to burden you with my troubled existence." He furrowed his eyebrows at me and I shrugged, "I don't usually paint when I'm happy Officer Blake, you have to understand most of these…" I cleared my throat, "Their just bad memories for me." He nodded once in understanding and I perked up as I got a thought. I reached into my purse a grasped the Polaroid camera that I took everywhere. I turned it to face myself in front of the photo of Joshua that he apparently liked and took a picture. A moment later the picture came out of the end of the camera. Once it was dry I turned it over, grabbed a pen out of my purse and wrote my number on the back.

"A memento." I handed it to him, "So you won't forget me."

"I don't think I could forget you." He said as he took the picture and looked it over, "Wait… is this your number?" But before he even started the question I had already started walking away.

**Please suggest ideas for this story in the review section as well as tell me what you thought!**

**THANKS!**


	2. And Ambitions Are Low

**AND AMBITIONS ARE LOW**

I started going out again. Like I used to. Not just with Joshua either but with my other friends. Well, if you could even call them that. I knew that Josh was the only one of them that actually cared about me. But I didn't care. I didn't care because I didn't need my inhabitations when I was around these people. I didn't need to have goals or something interesting to say or feelings even. As a consequence of going out again I started drinking again too. It was bound to happen, I didn't swear to anyone that I was going to stay sober and now that Josh wasn't my boyfriend anymore I didn't have to stay clean either. It was a relief really. I didn't have to hide what I was at home anymore. I could have lines of coke strewn across my coffee table and nobody would bat an eye. And I was fine. Well… kind of anyways.

About a week after I had gone to my own exhibit I received a call from John Daggett. I almost told him to go fuck himself as soon as his secretary put him on the line but I was curious.

"Magdalene," he exclaimed jovially, "Now, I know you're probably extremely busy getting reacquainted in the land of the living but-"

"I'm about to hang up on you so you better spit it out." _The land of the living, is this guy serious? _

"Okay, okay, someone's testy." He cooed, I just groaned and started putting the receiver down, "Wait, wait okay. I was hoping you'd accompany me this evening to a little party." I scoffed into the phone.

"Ah- no." I replied simply.

"It's with all the right people, all the people who have invested so much money into your career. In fact Miranda Tate who's hosting the little get together just bought one of your pieces for her private collection. That means you are among the ranks of Monet and Rembrandt…"

"She's a rich self-righteous environmentalist who thinks she knows everything about everyone even though she doesn't truly understand feelings. I've seen her around and I always get this cold vibe from her. I hate those people who just buy things because it's fashionable to do so, because they're expensive and it makes them seem cultured and sophisticated." I said spitefully as I started painting my toenails with my free hand.

"But you're the woman of the hour. You're the fashionable possession." Daggett argued.

"I don't care what I am… I hate them but more importantly I don't want to go to a party with _you_." I paused for a moment, "You know I'm only 19 years old right? I could be your daughter."

"Ah but you're not." He replied suggestively.

"You're disgusting." I said but I couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Be that as it may I told Tate as well as the Congressman that I was taking you. You wouldn't want to make me look bad would you?" He asked slyly.

"Yes I would." I responded quickly.

"Magdalene, don't be a child. Come with me, we'll have a few drinks, dance, you can insult all the rich people that you want while they bite their tongues and overwhelm you with flattery. It'll be a laugh."

"Is that your pitch?" I asked after he had finished.

"Yes, that's it." He sighed. I was contemplated it for a moment and glanced at my cell phone. People had been trying to invite me out all day but I stuck to ignoring them, thinking that I was just going to stay in for the night. Maybe watch L.A Confidential and work. I hadn't been working much lately, other than on the Polaroids. Ever since the hospital I had been taking pictures just to keep track of things. My pictures ranged from the doctors and nurses to my cabdriver or Joshua. I could feel them coming together into a project but I hadn't figured out what it was yet. I turned my attention back the man on the other end of the phone.

"Can I bring my camera?"

And there I was, waiting in a black lace dress to be taken to a party full of people that I despised. They knew I despised them too, I had never held back any of my hatred and somehow that had kept me in demand. I was "troubled", "unstable", "talented but tragic" or "a beautiful disaster". My life was nothing but an amusing pastime to them. The limo pulled up a few moments later and Daggett stepped out. He looked me up and down and grinned.

"Well don't you look appropriate…" He smirked. I looked down at the short dress with the lace up, knee high, black, Burberry boots and shrugged, "The black contrasts the bandages." He indicated to the white wrapping still around my wrist, "Can't you take those off yet."

"The scars are pretty gruesome right now." I replied, "I thought I better keep them on since I was going to be in the presence of _polite society._"

"Yeah, cause you definitely dressed the part." He mocked.

"Shut the fuck up, do you want me to go or what?" I shot back. He just laughed and nodded, holding open the limousine door for me.

"Personally I think you look sexy." He said, not too subtly staring at my chest.

"Personally I think you're a child molester." With that I got into the car. Daggett took the drive as an opportunity to get me all caught up on things that I didn't care about. He wanted Wayne Enterprises of that much I was clear. He kept talking about it, how something big was going to happen soon and it put me a little on edge. When we were almost there and his attention was diverted to the glass of whiskey in his hand I grabbed the Polaroid camera out of my purse. I snapped a shot of him just as he was turning towards me, an eerie kind of grin on his face. He looked astonished as I grabbed the newly printed picture.

"What was that?" He demanded.

"You said I could bring my camera." I stated simply, "What did you think I was going to do with it?"

"I thought you were kidding." He replied calmly, looking out the window.

"I wasn't." I bit my lip as the photo was drying and I slipped it safely in my purse along with the camera. A few minutes later we arrived.

The paparazzi had gathered outside the doors waiting for someone interesting to show. Apparently I didn't disappoint. As soon as I stepped out, my eyes were met with a million flashes. I was used to it though so I just gave them a familiar half smile and kept walking towards the door. Daggett was left trailing behind and I refused to even let him touch my arm while we were in front of the cameras. Once we entered the safety of the building I got the feeling that we were very late.

"When did this thing start?" I asked.

"About 2 and a half hours ago." Daggett whispered in my ear.

"You take fashionably late to a whole new level." I smiled, "I approve."

"I hoped you would." He answered with a wink. Suddenly people surrounded me; people whom I've never met before, people whom I have but didn't remember and people whom I have and didn't want to remember. They were all there and I felt suffocated. My savior was the camera. It turned out that people didn't like having their photos taken when they weren't posing. So far I had caught one affair, one recreational drug deal and a lot of people looking either insanely bored or insanely drunk. I was quite enjoying myself actually. And then something weird happened. Something that no one saw coming. Bruce Wayne entered the party. He was limping on a cane but he still looked exactly the same as I remembered when I was 11 years old and he went into hiding. Right after Dent's death, right after the Joker's crime reign ended, the year that everybody said the peace started. I had never met him. Back then I was just a little kid living in the Narrows with my totally inadequate parents. He was the playboy billionaire that everyone wanted to be friends with. I snapped a picture of him as he was swarmed with people, people who were shocked to see him reemerge from oblivion. He looked up upon seeing the flash and stared at me intently. Then he slowly came up to me with a charming smile plastered on his face. I didn't say anything once he was standing right in front of me. I just waited.

"Are you a reporter?" He asked and I shook my head and smiled. He didn't know who I was. I was glad somehow. That meant that he didn't know what I had done. He didn't want to tell me how "talented" I was. He didn't need to lie to me because I wasn't in any way significant to him, "What are you then?"

"Trouble." I responded and pulled the Polaroid out, looking at it as the image began to appear.

"I don't want my picture taken."

"Most people don't." I said, "Well not when they don't know they're being photographed anyways. People are interesting when they don't think anyone is looking. They're different."

"And how am I _different_?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

"You look tired. Beaten down." I answered glancing down at the picture again before pushing it into my purse.

"Why are you here?" He asked, "This isn't really a fun party to be crashing…"

"Ah Mr. Wayne." Miranda Tate's accented voice floated seductively from behind us, "It's so wonderful to see you again. It's been so long. I see you've met the woman of the hour." Tate gave me a full smile, "Ms. Gray I absolutely adore your painting I really sincerely do. I quite like how almost gruesome it is. Your work is so… true. It's refreshing amongst these people." She said. I nodded at her in acknowledgement, a small smile playing at my lips. Bruce looked confused.

"The woman of the hour?" He asked, "And here I thought you had snuck in." I shrugged, "Who are you exactly?"

"Oh you're in for quite the shock Mr. Wayne. Things have changed a bit while you were gone." Miranda patted Wayne on the shoulder, winked at me and then walked away to make small talk with her other guests.

"So I suppose introductions are in order? I'm Bruce Wayne and you are?"

"Magdalene Gray."

"Sounds familiar…"

"I did that." I pointed to the painting that was on display in the middle of the room. There were quite a few people crowded around it, as well as the people dancing that were obscuring our view. He was speechless for a moment.

"Really?" He asked.

"Yeah. Really."

"When?" He asked. I thought back but I was drawing a blank.

"I don't remember." I told him honestly.

"It's good." He remarked. I could tell that he didn't know much about art. He knew what was considered "good art" and what wasn't, like most members of society, but other than that he seemed clueless.

"It's okay if you don't get it." I looked around the room; "You probably have a clearer picture than most of the people in this room." I laughed.

"So what does it mean?"

"It can mean whatever you want it to mean." I said, "For me…" I looked it over and suddenly remembered when I had done it, "It meant the end of an era. Love lost. A brave new world." He appraised me for a moment and then smiled sadly, nodding. After a moment of silence he spotted someone on the dance floor that he needed to speak to and excused himself. I on the other hand decided that I wanted to go home.

I had to find Daggett and after searching the entire first floor I thought I'd try upstairs. I started opening random doors in my search for my sleazy escort. Until I came across one at the end of the hall, without thinking much about it I just opened it without knocking first and what I found came as quite the surprise. The first person I saw was John and I was relieved. I was starting to itch for a hit of something… anything, and I was really anxious to get home. But then I saw him and my mouth fell open. Whoever he was, he was massive. He wore a black bulletproof vest, which showed off the bulging muscles on his arms. However, the thing that grabbed my attention, and I suppose everyone's attention upon first seeing him, was the terrifyingly intimidating mask that covered the majority of his face.

"Magdalene…" Daggett warned, "You should have knocked." I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment and then back at the man with the mask.

"I-" I stuttered, "I'm sorry. I'll leave." I swallowed and turned to leave but suddenly the door was slammed shut in front of me. I looked up to see Daggett staring down at me solemnly.

"Unfortunately, it's too late for that. You're a liability now and I can't risk that." The unfamiliar voice hung eerily in the air. It was mechanical and accented and it sent shivers down my spine making me shake a little in the cold room.

"I won't tell anyone." I promised as I turned around again. I looked at Daggett pleadingly, "I'm good at keeping secrets, and I'm extremely selfish so you don't have to worry about me playing hero. Whatever this is, I won't interfere." The man's laugh reverberated off the wall of the room.

"I recognize you." He said ominously, "You're the little starlet that everyone's talking about." I just looked at Daggett desperately.

"Please, tell him I won't do tell anyone. You know me… kind of. You don't want to do this to me." I begged but Daggett ignored me so I turned my attention back on the other man, "Who would believe me anyways? Who would I tell about the big man in the mask? I'm a drug addict who just tried to commit suicide. Just let me go. I couldn't endanger you even if I tried." The man looked at me intently for a moment before shaking his head slowly and then turning to Daggett.

"We'll have to detain her until the plan is in place. Leave now. I'll take care of it." He spoke so firmly that Daggett could do nothing but nod and leave the room. The man placed his large hands on my shoulders and I was actually shaking with fright, "I will not hurt you little starlet, not unless you anger me." I just remained silent. He led me over to the bed that took up most of the room and sat me down, "So Magdalene, what are you doing at this party? Not exactly where I'd expect to find a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"A selfish drug addict, as you said." He replied mockingly.

"Daggett invited me. He said that it was expected of me, since Miranda Tate spent a lot of money on one of my painting."

"Did she now?" He raised an eyebrow, "Hmm… but still, I don't think that would convince you."

"I'm working on a new project." I didn't know why I was divulging all this information to the man holding me captive but I was too afraid not to. I reached into my purse shakily to retrieve some of the polaroid pictures I had taken. He took them from me and slowly examined each one. I wasn't sure, but he seemed amused.

"You don't show these people in a very good light." He commented.

"I show them for what they really are." I said, "It's not my fault that they're not very good people." I thought I heard a low chuckle coming from his mask at that.

"What's your name?" I asked cautiously.

"You may call me Bane."

It's a strange thing when horror turns to curiosity. But slowly through the night I started to realize that Bane fascinated me more than he scared me. Maybe I just had a death wish. Well… I know I did actually.

"You are different, little starlet." Bane said, "I think you would make quite a nice pet." I considered him for a moment. His eyes were really startling and piercingly lovely. They could portray the emotions that his mouth could not.

"Would I be able to take pictures?" I asked.

"Yes. I suppose so." He consented, "I suppose you could do whatever you wanted really while being confined."

"Confined?" I shook my head, "No, on second thought I don't think I'd like to be anyone's plaything. It would be an interesting experience to document but I don't think it's worth my freedom."

"Isn't it?" He seemed almost surprised, "And what has freedom given you?" He took my wrists in his hands and flipped them so that we were looking at the places I slit, "Nothing by scars."

"And fame… and fortune." I argued.

"Which have rendered you miserable and suicidal."

"You don't know me." I said quickly, "Why do you wear that mask?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"No one took me seriously before I put on the mask." He said but I shook my head.

"No, you need it. I can tell. Why do you have it?" The noise from downstairs had died down and Bane seemed to notice the lack of chatting or music at that moment.

"Stay here." He ordered. He stood up and left the room. I waited, my heart beating out of my chest, for him to return. I didn't have to wait for long as he was back in mere minutes. He walked towards me and roughly took my arm, forcing me to my feet.

"I'm not going to run." I told him, "I don't have any illusions that I'll be able to escape you."

"Do you really give up so easy?" He teased, "I'm almost disappointed."

"I'm a realist." I stated. He let go of my arm and I followed him down the stairs to the entrance that had long since seen the last guest out. I didn't see Miranda Tate anywhere and I wondered how Bane had even gotten into her house without her knowledge or why he was here in the first place if he didn't want to be seen. He stopped for a moment in front of my painting and examined it for a moment.

"Disturbing." He commented and then continued to walk out the door. A car was waiting outside the building, which he all but pushed me into. The driver just took off without saying a word. I took out my camera and quickly snapped a picture of the man as he drove. When I looked down at it, after it was developed I realized that the man looked almost hypnotized. Bound by a fake sense of pride. He seemed loyal, almost too loyal, to his cause. Whatever cause it was. The driver didn't even flinch when the flash went off, probably relying on the fact that if Bane had a problem with it he would take care of it himself. But Bane either didn't notice or didn't care because he continued to just stare in front of him expressionlessly. Eventually the car entered the Narrows. I looked out the window as the familiar streets of my childhood passed me by. They held no fear over me, only memories that I'd long since forced myself to forget. The car came to an abrupt stop in a dark and empty alleyway. I looked around, confused, _why are we stopping here?_ The buildings around us were residential. I supposed that maybe they could be used as a hideout but for the elaborate organiz_a_tion that Bane seemed to be running, it was an unlikely spot. To my ultimate surprise though, he didn't make a move to go into one of the buildings, instead he opened the manhole in the ground, leading down the sewers. I looked up at him before shaking me head adamantly.

"No." I said, "No, no, no, no, no." I repeated as if that would somehow convince him of my stance on the subject.

"Yes, my little starlet." He answered smugly and then indicated for the driver to go in first. I continued to shake my head and tried backing up but I ran into his chest in the process.

"I'm not going in there." I declared, "I don't like small dark places." He seemed to find this amusing and simply pushed me foreword towards the hole, "Stop. I'll go anywhere else, really I will. Anywhere you want. Just not there." My fear had returned. The skeletons in my closet were coming to the surface. The image of a little girl trapped in a small pitch-black hole rushed to mind. Bane grabbed me suddenly and started forcing me towards the manhole. I started pounding on his chest and kicking desperately, "Stop no, I don't want to go down there! I'll be good, I'll be a good girl, just don't make me!" Bane looked taken aback for a moment as I sobbed openly. He released me and I fell to the ground with a 'thump'.

"Small dark places hmm?" He question with an eyebrow raised, "It may be small and dark at first but I assure you that the atmosphere will change once we reach our destination." Suddenly an idea occurred to him and he reached into my bag and grabbed my camera. Before I knew what was happening he had snapped a photograph of me, a heap on the floor, crying. I didn't have anytime to react before he put the photo in his pocket and lifted me up in his arms. I closed my eyes and tried to contain my tears as he carried me down into the dark.

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	3. And Resentment Rides High

**AND RESENTMENT RIDES HIGH**

Bane was right when he said that his hideout wasn't small. The opposite actually, it was enormous. A complex of open rooms and staircases, and it was all rotating around a large waterfall in the middle. I didn't know what to make of it at first. It was almost beautiful in it's grime. Maybe I was the kind of person who saw beauty in places like this. It was brilliant really. No one would ever suspect anyone to be living down here. Why would they? Bane set me down on the metal grate and I followed him through the maze until we reached what seemed to be his office and bedroom. There was only really a small cot in the corner of the room, cut off from the rest of the compound by a curtain, and next to it were a multitude of monitors. I stared at them for a moment as information scrolled down the screen, numbers and letters that seemed to make no logical sense. Then I looked up at Bane.

"I have to stay here?" I asked, swallowing nervously.

"For the time being." He answered, "Until we find a more… permanent solution." I was slightly alarmed by his choice of words but I didn't say anything. Instead I walked towards the bed and collapsed on it tiredly. I closed my eyes and looked up at the ceiling. I could see people walking above me, their boots made a distinct sound on the metal.

"Where are you going to sleep?" I asked him without raising my head.

"I do not sleep here unless it is absolutely necessary." He said, "I shall be staying in my usual residence, the location of which is on a need to know basis. And you don' t need to know."

"Why can't I just stay with Daggett?" I asked.

"I do not trust him." Bane answered, "You could easily persuade him to let you go."

"You don't trust very many people do you?" I asked him. He didn't answer and I closed my eyes. The bed was even less comfortable then the hospital bed I had gotten used to few weeks ago. Suddenly my eyes popped open when I heard the distinct sound of my cell phone ringing. I searched my pocket and got out the noisy device. Bane was hovering over me now, giving me a pointed look. He grabbed the phone out of my hand and held it just out of my reach.

"If you reveal anything about our location or your situation I will not hesitate to snap your neck. Are we perfectly clear?" He spoke to me as if I were a petulant child. I nodded and he handed the phone back to me. I grit my teeth and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hi…" The man on the other end said. The voice was unfamiliar and he seemed nervous, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. Um, I should have called earlier. I know I should have, I just-"

"Who is this?" I asked abruptly.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, it's John. John Blake." He answered and suddenly I remembered. It was the guy from the gallery. I had totally forgotten about him.

"Oh, hello _officer_." I said flirtatiously. I looked up at Bane who didn't seem at all amused but I just waved him off, "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to, oh I don't know, grab coffee or something this week." He said. It's as if I could hear him blushing, "Talk, you know." I looked up at Bane before answering.

"Could you just hold on for a sec?" I asked and then put my hand over the receiving end of the phone, "He wants to go out with me."

"No." Bane answered simply.

"People are going to get suspicious if I suddenly drop off the face of the earth." I pointed out, "Maybe this way at least, I'll have a police officer willing to confirm that I'm alive and well."

"I do not trust you."

"I know, but you could send someone to accompany me. Keep an eye on me."

"No."

"But I like him."

Bane glared at me, "You do not seem to understand the gravity of the situation you are in." I rolled my eyes and took my hand off the phone.

"Sorry, that was my agent." I lied smoothly, "I can't do this week. I'm going to be out of town. But I would love to meet up with you when I get back." Bane suddenly started laughing. I looked up at him, astonished but he had already turned his back to me.

"Sure, yeah." He seemed a little disappointed, "That sounds good." I smiled despite myself. The man was cute.

"I'll save your number and this time I'll call you. I promise I will." I assured him.

"You're not blowing me off?" He laughed.

"Why would I want to do that?" I asked, "I think you underestimate your appeal Officer Blake." I teased. Bane looked about ready to snatch the phone out of my hand and throw it against the wall, "Look, I have to go. I'll talk to you again soon." And with that I hung up. Bane took the phone again and turned it off before putting it into his coat pocket along with that picture of me. I looked up at him resentfully but didn't say anything.

"Rest now." He pointed at the bed, "I have work to do." I wanted to argue but I didn't. My eyes were drooping closed on their own anyways.

When I woke up the next morning someone was standing over me. I jumped and shot up, ignoring my pounding head that protested against me rising so suddenly. The person above me was not the hulking figure that I had expected but a much slimmer man with no mask to hide his pursed lips. My voice was lost to me so I just took him in uneasily and searched the room for his master. Bane was nowhere to be found. The man cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him.

"He wanted me to give you these." The scruffy man handed me what looked like a casual change of clothes.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"He has things to attend to." The man replied and was about to walk away when I jumped up and stopped him, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him back to me. At first he shook me off but he seemed intrigued enough to humor me.

"What is he doing down here?" I got a little closer to him, "I mean, I get the feeling that it's something big." I pouted my lips a little and slowly let my fingers play with his forearm. The man's body remained ridged but his eyes gave away his lust. I had assumed that these men didn't have much time to fraternize with the opposite sex and I used that to my advantage.

"It is. It's a revolution." He spoke passionately, "This city is going to get what it deserves."

"And what exactly does it deserve?" I asked huskily. My eyes glued on his.

"A reckoning." He whispered. That's when he started to grab for me but I just backed up, so that I was out of arm's length. I hastily picked up the camera from my bed and took a shot of him. He stood completely still in shock before regaining movement.

"What's your name?" I asked, my back to him now.

"Brian."

"Did you bring food or water with you too, Brian?"

"No." He answered. I could tell that he was a little dazed still so I took that opportunity to slip by him and trot down the stairs to the lower level of the complex.

"Hey, where are you going?" He called after me.

"No one chained me to anything, so I'm guessing that I can go wherever I want, as long as I don't leave the sewers." I called back. Brian ran after me.

"I don't know about that." He said latching on to my arm.

"Did he tell you otherwise?" I asked.

"No."

"Then let go of me." I said coldly. He hesitantly released my arm and I pushed by him. I wanted to see what they were doing.

I wondered around the place for what seemed like an eternity. Taking the odd photograph here and there, but really not finding anything or anyone to numb my boredom. Most importantly, I didn't find Bane. Finally I returned to the small room that I had slept in and someone brought me food and water shortly afterwards. I tried to work the computers but there was a pass code obviously and I didn't even bother trying to break it. Knowing Bane it was probably just a random assortment of letters and numbers, impossible for maybe even a computer hacker to solve. My eyelids grew heavy, as did my constitution to stay awake and wait for my captor to return. I lay down on the cot again, knowing full well that it wasn't late. I was emotionally exhausted. I didn't want to think about my situation, or what people were saying on the surface, or about when Bane would wander back in here and what he would do to me. So I slept instead.

I opened my eyes slowly. Men were talking, chatting and laughing on a different platform of the complex and the noise drifted into my ear, awakening me. I rolled over and saw Bane sitting on his chair, looking at something in his large hands. It took me a moment to realize that it was the photographs that I had taken yesterday. Before thinking it over, I quietly reached on the floor next to me and grabbed the camera. Lifting it I framed him in the shot, without showing what was in his hand and pressed down on the button. The camera made the distinctive click and flashed, before beginning to spew the picture out of it's front. He looked up at me slowly, thankfully he didn't look angry. He simply aligned the pictures into a single pile and put them down on the desk.

"You are talented I shall give you that." He said casually, "These are… interesting to say the least. You are interesting." He raised his hand, beckoning for me to come forward and I did hesitantly. He snatched the freshly taken portrait out of my hand and looked it over curiously. Then he absentmindedly put it with the others and grabbed me, forcing me to sit on his lap. Not like a child would sit on a parent's lap though, no not like that at all. I stared at him with wide eyes, not really sure what to do or say as he ran his fingers through my hair. Whether these were his first signs of affection or possession, I would never be sure, "Why did you scream and cry like a little girl when we tried to bring you down here? You are otherwise so unaffected by everything that has happened. What is it about small dark places that makes you scream with fright?" I didn't want to answer him. I had spent so much time trying to forget that I didn't even know if I could draw upon that memory if I tried.

"I don't remember." I said. I wondered if he could tell that I was lying. Either way he didn't call me on it.

"You are so young." He spoke almost reminiscently, "When did you become an artist?"

"I dropped out of school and ran away from home when I was 16." I told him, refusing to look into his eyes, "I started to get recognition for it when I around 18."

"And what about the 2 years in between?"

"I was living with my boyfriend, an older photographer who had seduced me into leaving everything I knew behind to strike out on my own with him." I laughed humorlessly, "Even though he had been an active artist for a while I brought home most of the money, from commissions and from waitressing." Bane continued to stroke my hair, his eyes fixed on my face. It was rather intimidating to have all of his attention on me like this.

"And where is this boyfriend of yours now?" He asked.

"He left me." I admitted. When I used to talk about it, I could never avoid the pain that would wash over me, but now I didn't feel anything, "I started becoming successful. I quit waitressing and devoted all my time to my own work, meaning I stopped being his little assistant as well. He didn't like that. He liked me as someone I wasn't, and I was happy being that person for a while. I was happy being demure and love struck and the devoted girlfriend until suddenly I wasn't. I guess I was something more than he thought I was and he couldn't stand it. So he told me I had changed, that I was sellout and that I was whoring myself in the spotlight. And then he left." Bane's eyes wrinkled and I think that meant that he was smiling.

"And where is he now?" He scoffed, "You are being exhibited all over the world, a fortune sitting in your bank account, international acclaim. And he left _you_." Bane chuckled and I couldn't help but smile too. Somehow his words made me feel good about myself. Something that very few people had been able to do, "What interesting taste in men you have my little starlet."

"I was young and stupid." I sighed wistfully, "He was older and promised me the world that I so desperately wanted. But besides how it all fell apart, leaving home was one of the best decisions I ever made." I smiled at him. He nodded thoughtfully.

"And what of this police officer that called?"

"John?" I wondered what he was getting at from this line of questioning, "We met at the gallery a week back. He didn't know who I was at first, which was nice, it made him honest. He's a good guy. A rare commodity in this city." I said, "So I gave him my number."

"I see…" Bane said.

"I see?"

"Yes." He responded. I just looked at him and shifted uncomfortably on top of him.

"Why are you asking me all this?" I wondered out loud. He shrugged, "Can I ask about you now?"

"No, you have to earn that." He answered. His face, thanks to the mask, was expressionless and completely unreadable even through looking in his eyes.

"And what can I do to earn it?" I asked hesitantly, my mind already going through various 'favors' he could ask of me.

"Be a good pet and I'll reward you." He stated, "Be a bad one and I'll punish you. It's as simple as that." My gaze turned venomous as I absorbed his words.

"I'm not your _pet_." I spat. His brow furrowed for a moment.

"But of course you are." He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "You're already curled up on my lap and letting me stroke you like one." I immediately tried to pull away from him but he held his grip and tugged on my hair, making me yelp in pain, "What did I say about misbehaving?"

"I. Am. Not. Your. Pet." I growled at him, "My whole life I've been treated like a pet by one man after another. But I am not yours." His mechanical laugh boomed in my ears and I flinched.

"Don't be silly." He said, brushing everything I said off with a wave of his hand, "Do you want me to chain you to the wall? Lock you up, allow you to waste away in total despair until you are begging, on your hands and knees, for me to allow you to please me? That would be such a shame, my little starlet."

"My _name_ is Magdalene." I hissed. He gave me a sharp look before continuing.

"But that can all be arranged. I don't have time for disobedient little girls after all." His face was inches away from mine now, "Is that what you want _Magdalene_?"

"No." I whispered, trembling uncontrollably.

"See, you've rather given away your hand on this one. Small dark spaces, an easy threat to make. So what are you?"

"Whatever you want me to be." I said in defeat.

"And right now, I want a pet." He lifted me off of him easily as he stood up, "So are you going to be compliant?"

"Yes." I answered. He towered over me now.

"Good girl."

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	4. But Emotions Won't Grow

**BUT EMOTIONS WON'T GROW**

Bane let out one final grunt as he collapsed beside me in bed. I didn't bother moving my arms to cover my bare breasts as I had in the past. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen them only two moments ago. It was a hot night at the end of Gotham's summer months. My body was sticky with sweat, as was his. My hair arranged around my hair on the pillow like a hallow but I had never felt less saintly. Bane was breathing hard beside me, he had really exerted himself this time and went a little faster and harder than my body was used to. I was no virgin, not even close, but there was something different about having sex with Bane. It was like someone had severed his connection between his sexual desires and his emotional responses. I had never felt more unloved or unimportant as I did when he was "making love" to me. Though people thought differently, I had never spent the night with a man I was not dating, a man who didn't have a long-term romantic relationship in mind. It might ruin my uncaring reputation, but I did care about this. This was intimate. This was _me_. I couldn't say it was rape, because it wasn't. I was willing even though you could make the argument that I was too scared to refuse him. I couldn't control my primal response when he touched me. He was experienced and well rehearsed. He knew what would make me scream out his name or what would make me beg him for more. But he was so indifferent about the whole thing. Afterwards I just felt… used.

"Perhaps I should start calling you my little harlot hmm?" He laughed from beside me. I didn't respond, instead I just continued to stare up at the ceiling. It had been about a week since I was taken, and in that time he had moved me out of the sewers and to his own private residence, which seemed to be a boarded up house in the middle of the narrows. It was actually a rather nice place. It had been cleaned and furnished rather stylishly, obviously not by Bane himself. He had also been "generous" enough to bring me some art material from my studio, the day before. It was the middle of the night but I wasn't at all tired. Being ravaged did nothing but make me restless and I didn't want to toss and turn for another few hours before sleep finally claimed me. I sat up and reached for the oversized shirt that I used as a makeshift nightgown, before slipping it on, "Where are you going?" Bane asked.

"Nowhere, just to the living room." I told him and he furrowed his brow at me before deciding that he didn't care enough to make it an issue. He just lay back in the bed and closed his eyes. I walked out into the living area of the house, closing the door of the bedroom behind me. I got a glass of orange juice before starting to sob. I didn't know what had come over me but tears were suddenly pouring out of my eyes and falling down my cheeks. I raided the medicine cabinet's stash of Aspirin before downing 5 of them and setting to work. The paint and canvas were the only things I could see through the cloudy drug induced haze and tears. I tried to express everything I wanted to say to the man sleeping peacefully in the other room but I couldn't. My hands were covered in black and red and blue, which matched the bruises on my wrists and thighs. When I was done, I succumbed to the darkness and collapsed on the hardwood floor. Curling up into a ball, my mind was drawn back to that night when I had slit my wrists and watched the blood drain from them. I felt like I was there all over again. I felt at peace.

I was awakened by a quick kick to the stomach, which made me double over in pain. I opened my eyes to see an unfamiliar man, one of Bane's goons probably.

"Look at the fucking mess you made bitch." The man spat at me but couldn't really comprehend what he was talking about, "The boss is not going to like this. Not one bit. And when he wakes up, I'm sure he'll give you the thrashing you deserve. So you better get cleaning." I relaxed immediately. For a second I thought that he was doing this on Bane's authority. That would have been concerning. But no, he was acting on his own initiative. I pressed my palm to my forehead and sat up.

"You hurt me." I stated calmly and felt for the source of the pain in my side, "My rib might be fractured."

"Do I look like I fucking care?" The man yelled, "Get up or I'll break the next one."

"What's going on in here?" Bane immerged from his room, shirtless and annoyed by the sounds of it, "Did I give you permission to be in here."

"I was just delivering a message." The man spoke quickly, "Ms. Al Ghul wants to speak with you."

"And you thought it was your duty to wake me up to the sound of you barking orders." Bane had not once looked down at me, or what I had done to his living room.

"Well no, I didn't mean to wake you, I uh- just saw all this shit and her and it was just unacceptable so I, well I-"

"You decide what is unacceptable do you?" Bane questioned. The man was becoming more and more weary of the situation he was in. He stuttered to find his words.

"Well no sir but-"

"So how did you act on you initial reaction to the current state of my living room?" Bane cut him off.

"I woke her up."

"How?"

"I don't remember." He clenched his jaw tightly, lying through his teeth.

"Fair enough." Bane responded then turned his attention to me for the first time, "Magdalene, do you remember?" His voice was slow and menacing in its light tone.

"He kicked me." I answered as I looked up at the man who had woken me so rudely. He looked petrified. I couldn't blame him, I would be too if I were standing where he was.

"Did he hurt you my darling?" He asked, using the term of endearment as further threat.

"No." I spoke quickly. I didn't want to be responsible for somebody's death, at least not this early in the morning. But Bane obviously didn't believe me.

"Did he hurt you Magdalene?" He repeated his question this time slower. I just swallowed nervously and nodded.

"And how did he hurt you?"

"My rib. He kicked my rib. It's probably just bruised or fractured though…" My voice trailed off and I watched Bane's reaction. He just nodded once and moved towards the man slowly.

"So you believe that it was quite within your rights, as a message boy, to come into my house and injure my _property_, then proceed to wake me up with your insufferable voice?" Bane asked. I didn't want to see what was going to happen next but I just couldn't look away."

"No. No. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He sputtered out. Taking a step back and putting up his hands as if to surrender.

"Don't apologize to me, I wasn't the one you hurt." Bane said pointedly. The man turned to me quickly.

"I'm so sorry Miss." He apologized, no longer the angry man who had woken me up, he had been reduced to a little sniveling schoolboy.

"It's okay." I answered, "I'll be fine, really." Suddenly, before he could even turn his attention back to his foreboding superior, Bane had grabbed him by the shoulder and issued a quick punch to his midsection. That was followed by the unmistakable sound of cracking ribs. I shuttered and the man fell back with a yelp of pain.

"Then he'll be fine too." Bane spoke, his demeanor still completely collected. The man was rolling on the ground, groaning with what I could only imagine to be indescribable pain. Bane, obviously, had no sympathy for the pathetic creature, "You have delivered your message now get out." The man, not wanting to anger the beast more, scrambled up and all but crawled out the door that Bane held open for him. After I saw the door slammed shut I let out the breath that I didn't even know I had been holding in, "Take off the shirt." Bane addressed me, "If the bone is fractured I'll have to bandage it." I nodded demurely and unbuttoned the long shirt and blushed when he laid his eyes on my panty-clad body. He walked over to me and put his hand on the afflicted rib. I yelped when he put even the slightest pressure on it, "Not broken. Definitely fractured."

"Okay." I said quietly. Bane looked around the living room, at the paint, pills and completed canvas all strewn across the floor.

"This is what all the fuss was about?" He asked with a scoff and I nodded. He walked forward to pick up the artwork that I barely even remembered painting, "It's good." He said. He picked up the half empty bottle of Aspirin in his other hand, "I do not approve of your methods but the results are… undeniable." He thought for a moment, "Do I truly cause you this much anguish?"  
"Sometimes." I answered with a shrug, pulling a blanket around myself as I spoke. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head disbelievingly.

"Shall we hang it?" He asked and I shook my head.

"No, it's not worthy of display."

"Why are you so critical of yourself. Look." He held up the painting for me to see, "This is your soul, your pain. I can read you better on this canvas than I can when I fuck you. _I see_ _you_ my little starlet."

"And what do you see?" I whispered.

"Anger." He answered, "You're… disturbed. Twisted by your need to feel something. Anything. I make you sad. Disheartened even. Though I'm not sure why." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "Is it because you spent so long trying to escape belonging to someone or being used like a doll? But now, when you're with me, you almost revel in it." He put down the painting and grabbed me, forcing me to look directly into his icy eyes.

"No." I said coldly.

"You like it." He whispered, his words worming into my mind, "You like being treated like this. You like being controlled. It makes you to _feel_ things, things that you can't feel otherwise."

"Stop it."

"I researched you." He continued mercilessly, "The month before your attempted suicide you didn't produce any new work. Why was that? You would think that a suicidal individual would feel more than inspired enough, especially a painter who's whole profession relies on her sporadic emotions."

"I wasn't up to it. I was miserable, that's why I did it. I didn't want to do anything anymore. I wanted to stop for good."

"No, you did it because you felt nothing. Not miserable. Nothing. You couldn't produce anything because you were indifferent to everything."

"You're wrong!" I screamed, "You kidnapped me and forced me into submission and now you think you know me? Why don't you just kill me? That's all I want! Can't you see?" I took a deep breath before continuing in a dark controlled tone, "I hate this awful city. I hate that I can't enjoy my wealth or my talent. I hate that you make me feel this way. That you make me cry, or worst that you make me moan." I laughed humorlessly, "Fuck I don't want this. I don't want any of this. I wish I had died innocent. Without knowing what I know now." That time came flooding back to me and a familiar anguish came over me, "I wish I had died in that hole. Oh god, I wish I had been forgotten." Then I launched myself at his chest and started crying all over again. He put a hand on my back and rubbed it in a soothing manner. Once I couldn't cry anymore. Once I felt the pain turn into numbness. I struggled to get away and he released me from his grip. I stumbled away and fell against the couch. He just watched me.

"You don't hate me." He stated.

"No." I said in a raspy voice.

"Who do you hate then?"  
"Myself."

"I can see that." He said casually, "You are more interesting that I originally bargained for my little starlet." He turned away from me to examine my painting once again, "Your work is beautiful, tainted, but beautiful nonetheless and yet you cannot even be sober or clean to produce it, to go to that dark place that inspires you. You hide from your own mind."

"Yes."

"But why?" He spun around again and approached me, cupping my cheeks in his hands as he kneeled down in front of me, "What happened to you?"

"I don't- I don't remember." I answered quickly, too quickly.

"Yes you do."

"I won't tell you." I said with a new resolve, "You have to earn that." I mimicked what he had said to me when I asked about his past. Bane's eyes wrinkled slightly.

"I think I've more than earned it. For the last week I've done nothing but feed, clean and fuck you."

"You think that's what I want?" I whispered resentfully, "To be _fucked_." He stared at me for a moment longer before laughing.

"Go clean yourself up." He dismissed me; "We'll have plenty of time for your epiphanies later." I didn't hesitate to stand up and run to the washroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I let the blanket that I had kept securely around me the entire time I was screaming and crying fall to the ground at last. I turned on the shower and turned the knob to a scalding temperature before getting in. I leaned my head back against the tiles and let the water wash away all the paint, sex, and suffering that seemed to coat my skin.

When I exited the shower I put on a little summer dress and went to get some breakfast. Bane was reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. He didn't even look up when I passed him. I got some cereal out of the cupboard and made myself a hot cup of coffee. After he had finished whatever he was reading he folded the newspaper slowly and set it down on the table. He then reached into his pants pocket and withdrew what looked like a bottle of prescription pills and held it up for me to see.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Your anti-depressants." Bane said, "I had someone pick them up for you."

"When? While I was in the shower?" I asked incredulously.

"Two days ago." He replied, "The drug store said that you never picked them up after your little… incident."

"And they give away that information to just anyone do they?" I grit my teeth as I spoke.

"I know a psychiatrist. His methods are a little unorthodox but he still has connections." Bane returned her glare, "The entire world knows that you nearly killed yourself a little over 3 weeks ago. I didn't want a repeat of that on my hands." He stated matter-of-factly, "You should take the pills. They might help."

"I wasn't taking them for a reason." I replied.

"You weren't taking them because you were afraid that you might lose control and overdose again." He said and I scoffed, shaking my head, "Like how you almost emptied my bottle of pain killers, that I so carelessly left around, last night. On that note, the medicine cabinet shall be locked until I can trust you again, and I shall monitor your dosage of these daily." He got up and went to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. He then popped open the pill bottle and took out one. He slid both items across the table to me, "Swallow." I complied and took the medication. He nodded and beckoned for me, "Is everything better now?" He teased, pulling me down so that I was straddling his lap.

"Yes, everything looks sunnier already." I replied sarcastically. He couldn't kiss me, instead he would pull my head down to his, forcing my lips onto his mask whenever he wanted my affection. I would then lean down further to kiss his neck, while he scraped his fingers through my hair.

"Good girl." He laughed, "Are you grateful?"

"Yes."

"Prove it." Then he got up, taking me with him as he did so and pushed us down onto the living room couch, "I've been good to you my little starlet, now I want you to good to me." I spread my legs for him obediently.

I ended up lying on top of him on the couch. His skin was pressed against mine, and he seemed to be amusing himself by tracing patterns on my breasts with his finger. The warm sensation made me squirm happily in his arms. I got bored easily though and reached for my camera that was sitting on the coffee table. He watched me and helped me flip over onto my stomach so that I could frame him in the shot. He looked different then he normally did, he was strangely at peace, and I wanted to capture the moment. I took the picture and grabbed the Polaroid as it came out. Before it developed though he snatched both the picture and the camera from my hand. Throwing the picture onto the table, he quickly snapped another one of me on top of him. I looked flustered and tried to get the camera back.

"Give it." I complained when he held it above his head, just out of my reach.

"No." He replied and I continued struggling against him. He took a few more pictures as I grappled with him in an unsuccessful attempt to get the camera out of his hand. I was laughing too hard to put up much of a fight though.

"Fine, you win." I muttered as I gave up and fell back against his chest.

"I always will."

**PLEASE REVIEW... I know everyone always says that. But I am not above begging... so please please please please please please!**


	5. And We're Changing Our Ways

**AND WE'RE CHANGING OUR WAYS**

I didn't want to admit what was happening to me. It was the same thing that happened over and over again. I met a man, he flipped this invisible switch in me, the part of me that wanted to be kept, controlled, and then I fell for him. I don't know why this cycle was destined to continue until it killed me, until I was useless to the entire male species. I had forced myself into dating Josh, a nice boy who would never push me into doing anything that I didn't want to, and then I tried to kill myself. So here I was again, drawn in by the unreachable man - the man that would never see himself as my equal - and I fell in love with him. The medication that Bane was giving me forced me to be compliant more than anything else. Yet, as I dug myself deeper and deeper into a hole of unrequited emotions, I felt my depression slipping away. The hopelessness seemed less prominent and a purpose returned to my life as well as inspiration. I gave my image one last check in the mirror and smiled as I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail. I bounced out of the washroom and sprung into the living room. He was sitting at his usual place at the kitchen table, dwarfing the chair he sat in, a laptop sitting in front of him. I planted a kiss on his neck as I passed, running my fingers across his shoulders. My coffee was waiting for me in the machine and I poured myself a cup. As soon as I sat down I outstretched my hand across the table to him. Without even looking up me he pulled the familiar pill bottle out of his pocket, popped the cap and dropped one of its contents into my open palm.

"Thank you." I said as I swallowed the small white pill with a gulp of coffee. Minutes passed and the only sound was of his fingers pressing down on the computer keys. I hummed aimlessly and strummed my fingers against the table. Suddenly a huge hand came down and slapped my hand against the table. Bane looked at me warningly from over the laptop screen. I just sighed and stood up from the table, wandering over to the other side of the living room where I had arranged stacks of photos and sketches or experimental paintings, "I want to go outside today." I informed him loudly.

"Not without a leash." He replied stonily. I rolled my eyes and sat down on the floor, fingering through a few of the photographs.

"I don't want to be trapped here anymore." I stated. I heard the sound of the chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it away from the table and stood.

"You may come to the compound with me if you wish." He suggested but I shook my head.

"Boring. I want to be outside, in the fresh air, amongst the people." I exclaimed dramatically, waving my arms around with a smile on my face, "I'll behave. I promise."

"They'll recognize you my little starlet. They'll recognize you and then they'll take you away from me."

"I don't care about them anymore." I jumped up and ran over to him, leaping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his strong torso, "They don't mean a thing. Only you." I kissed the side of his mask.

"And why is that?"

"You're so powerful." I all but moaned, "It's intoxicating." He chuckled and linked his arms around my back. I looked up at him with admiration, "Tell me, when are you going to strike? I've been watching you plan all week now, when are you making the first move?" I asked curiously.

"That is on a need to know basis." He answered calmly.

"I need to know." I smirked, "C'mon Bane, tell me. When are you going to light the match that sets the world on fire?"

"Soon." He responded vaguely, "Why so suddenly fascinated with my work?"

"I've always been interested." I caressed the metal teeth that used to scare me so very much, "Come here I want to show you something." I led him into the bedroom that he hadn't visited in about a week and a half. He spent all of his nights at the compound and only returned for meals. I opened the door and turned on the light, illuminating the piece I had been working on for 72 hours straight, "Do you like it?" I asked quietly. I had completely repainted the wall opposite of our bed. Instead of its previous state of plain white, the wall now displayed the haunting landscape of Gotham City.

"It's spectacular." Bane answered, his eyes not moving from the wall. Gotham was shown in what seemed to be a post-apocalyptic state. Buildings had deteriorated and burnt to the ground. I smiled up at him before moving backwards slowly towards the bed, a malicious smile on my face as I undid the buttons of my cardigan to reveal a bright red lacy bra. He tilted his head to one side, his expression unfathomable before he began advancing on me like a predator stalking his prey. It turned me on to no end.

"How quickly you've accepted your position here my little starlet. To be perfectly honest I thought you'd put up more of a fight." He said in a low voice.

"I've always been a big believer in not denying myself anything that I want." I spoke seductively, pushing my skirt down to my feet and stepping out of it as I reached the bed. I bit my lip as I watched how his eyes devoured my body.

"And what is it that you want exactly?"

"Right now…" I pretended to think about it for a moment, "Right now I want you to reward me, I've been such a good girl after all, haven't I?"

"Yes, you've been extremely well behaved I must admit." He replied with a raised eyebrow, "I think you do deserve a little reward." I held back a grin, "But I don't have time for that now." He finished. My face fell and I bit back the angry curse words that I wanted to spit at him for working me up like that. He reached out a lifted my chin up to meet his eyes again, "But I can't leave with you looking so… delicious." His hand fell to graze over my bra, his eyes dropping to appraise the cleavage that I exposed to him, "If you really want to go outside, I have one more thing for you to _take care of_." Then he pushed my shoulders down so that I was forced onto my knees. I looked up at him once more before pleasing him in a way that left me feeling uncomfortably aroused and totally unsatisfied.

There was something terribly unsettling about being left alone under armed guard. It was like at the back of my mind I could always sense the presences outside my door, permitted to shoot me if there was probable cause. I stayed in my bedroom most of the day, working on a little watercolors of the scene outside my window, but I soon became restless and abandoned the picturesque little painting on the windowsill. I looked around the room before noticing something that had escaped my vision before. A little safe positioned on the top shelf of Bane's closet, there was just enough space between his clothes to make out the dial. I sprang up and ran over to it, moving the pairs of pants aside. It was locked. Of course it was locked. I wondered what was inside of it. I got a strong urge to find out. It had been a long time since I picked a lock, high school lockers didn't really compare to this. I had always had a knack for it though, and once I had collected the makeshift household items that I would need, I set to work. It was difficult but the safe really wasn't all that secure, whatever was inside of it he didn't care that much about. Soon enough, it was open. I eagerly put my hand inside to pull out its contents. My hand wrapped around a familiar object and I smiled. My cell was now in the palm of my hand. I turned on the device and sure enough the signal was strong in the apartment. There was only one number that I wanted to call.

"Hello?" He answered, I heard the sound of typing in the background and I knew that I had caught him at work. I smiled into the receiver.

"Is this officer John Blake?" I teased.

"Yes, who is this?"

"I don't know…" I smirked, "Who do you want it to be?" My voice was seductive though I really didn't have much romantic interest in the man at the moment, considering my current situation. He was someone to talk to though. The only person who I felt I could talk to without having the reveal where I had been for the last month.

"Magdalene Grey." He laughed quietly, "I have to be honest. I never thought I'd hear from you again."

"I wouldn't blow off a member of Gotham's finest. Speaking of, how is the city holding up since I've been gone? In pieces I would imagine."

"It's in desperate need of its favorite pastime." He responded smoothly, "When are you getting back?"

"I don't know yet. I kind of like it here." I answered, "The police officers here aren't as cute though, which is a major draw back." He chuckled.

"Where are you?"

"The Middle East." I lied quickly, "I'm taking some kind of soul searching retreat on doctors orders. It's amazing what they can get you to do or how much money they can get you to spend. It is beautiful here though." It felt so easy lying to him, almost as if I was telling the truth and I really was on a vacation in the Middle East.

"And how's it going?"

"What?"

"The soul searching?" He asked.

"I haven't found it yet I don't think." I answered with a smile, "I don't know, how can you tell?"

"I think you just know."

"Has anybody missed me?" I asked curiously, "I mean I don't want to sound self-involved or anything, I'm just curious."

"The tabloids were going crazy for a little bit but things have settled down, I think they sent a bunch of reporters out to try to track you down. If you see anyone hiding behind a camel with a camera you'll know that they've found you." He said. I laughed and shook my head sadly.

"Oh dear." I sighed, "Officer John Blake, I think I've missed you." I didn't want to admit that I missed the outside world, and the cute police officer, and Josh so very dearly, but I have. I even kind of missed John Daggett.

"I miss you too." He replied and I could almost hear the smile on his face, "Come back soon."

"I will." I could hear the door opening and closing from the living room, "Look, I have to go, I'll call you again soon okay?" I didn't give him a chance to answer though as I sprang up and threw the phone back into the safe, shutting it quickly and lying back down on the bed. I grabbed a book from the side table to give off the appearance that I was busy. The heavy footsteps paused for a moment in front of the bedroom door and I looked up to see Bane looming in the doorway.

"Tomorrow." He said simply. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, "It all starts tomorrow. You will be able to watch it on the news if you want." I nodded absentmindedly and pretended to go back to my book. He walked towards me slowly and his hand found my back, running his palm along my spine. I shivered at the warm touch, "I thought you were interesting in my work."

"I am." I replied, "I just don't know how I feel about it yet." I admitted, "Gotham is my home after all. _I was born here and I'll die here, against my will_." I quoted one of my favorite Bob Dylan songs. He nodded thoughtfully and sat down on the bed beside me.

"This city will get what it deserves." He said. I'd heard it all before, it was nothing new. He would tell me all about the corruption and his destiny, or the destiny of a man that was now long dead. I didn't really understand him sometimes when he talked like that. It was like the words were not his own.

"And what does it deserve?" I asked, I knew that I was probably pushing my luck with him but I had convinced myself that I wasn't his pet and I wasn't going to act like I was. He looked at me hard for a moment before answering.

"To burn."

"Says who?" My voice was becoming more venomous with passion.

"Says me." He rebutted but I just shook my head, staring into his eyes intently. Looking for passion behind his words but I couldn't find any.

"No." I whispered, my face only inches from him, "No I don't believe you. This isn't you. I don't know why you're doing this but it isn't you. I know that. This isn't your destiny, isn't your goal, it's somebody else's. You must be very loyal to this person to want to do something like this for them."

"You are very observant my little starlet." He chuckled but there was an edge to his laugh to made me uneasy, "Perhaps too observant for your own good. I suppose you think you've got it all figured out then. That you see me for what I truly am."

"I can't even scratch the surface." I replied, lowering my eyes to his mask, "How could I? You won't even tell me how you got that mask."

"It's not a story I wish to tell you."

"Well it seems like a story worth telling nevertheless." I commented. All the humor seemed to have drained from his face. He pushed me back onto the bed and held me there as he hovered over me menacingly.

"And what makes you think that you are in a position to be questioning my motives like this. I will admit that it is brave of you but bravery is just a kind word for stupidity don't you think?"

"No!" I shouted and tried to push him off, "No I don't think that at all. If you think that I'm just going to sit by demurely as you destroy the only city I've ever known. Ever called home, then you are mistaken. I might not be stupid enough to think that I can change your mind but I know that I am brave enough to speak up for what I believe in." To my surprise he got off of me. There was a strange glint to his eyes that I had never seen before.

"Hmm." He said.

"Hmm?"

"Yes." He got off the bed and walked back into the living room. I followed behind him curiously as he stationed himself at the kitchen table and pulled out his laptop, "Run along now." He turned towards me once more, "I have work to do. Tomorrow is going to be a big day." I just stood there in sunned silence.

"What?" I scoffed, "That's it, end of discussion? You're just going to disregard everything that I just said?"

"I thought you stated that you weren't stupid enough to think that you were going to change my mind." He answered and started typing in the forceful and slow way that he did. As if the keys had done something to anger him.

"Yes but I thought that you would try to change mine."

"I have no desire to do such a thing." He replied coolly, "You are entitled to your own opinion." My mouth hung open in a rather unattractive way as I stared at the back of his head, "You will not change my mind and I shall not change yours. I find no reason to discuss the issue any further."

"So we're at an impasse then." I said.

"No, not an impasse. Simply a small disagreement that makes absolutely no difference in the long run anyways and will thus in no way effect our relationship."

"Our relationship?"

"Yes." Then it was as if I didn't exist to him. He was back in his world of evil schemes and making Gotham pay. I briefly wondered what would happen to me when he took down the city, I wondered if he thought that I needed to be punished as well. It wouldn't be unthinkable of him to believe that I did.

"Maybe I should burn too." I mumbled, still standing in the same place as before, "Here I am, sleeping with my own downfall." I thought for a moment, "No, that's not true. I'm my own downfall."

"Then perhaps you should think of me as your salvation." Bane spoke, never looking away from his computer screen, "Your liberation."

"My reckoning." I finished. I then turned on my heels and walked back into our bedroom and cried. I don't know how long I cried because soon enough I had sobbed myself into a deep sleep.

There is something jarring about waking up and having no idea where you are. Before I even opened my eyes I could feel that I wasn't in the house anymore. There was nothing but dead silence around me. There were no reassuring sounds of traffic outside the window or of a clock ticking on the bedside table. I could feel the springs in the mattress I was lying on as it creaked loudly when I shifted. I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. I looked like I was in a prison cell. The room was made of cement and has absolutely no furnishings, unless you called the little puddle of water on the ground decorative. My thoughts were scattered and I couldn't figure out why I was here.

"I thought quite a bit about what you said." A booming voice came from the far side of the room. I could see his outline highlighted by the little light behind him, "It seems that we were at an impasse."

"Bane?" I spoke, my voice cracking slightly out of fear, "Bane what did you do? Why am I here?"

"I suppose I want you to see things my way for a little while. I want you to feel the desperation that I felt while all the while clinging to the hope, the small hope, that I will let you out of here."

"Stop this!" I screamed, his words putting my into a panic, "Why are you doing this to me? I thought you cared about me!"

"You were right, you needed to be punished." He replied, ignoring my questions, "You tried to kill yourself. You are a rich little girl who could have anything that you want. Who could do so much for the world and instead you drown yourself in alcohol and drugs and try to end it all without a single care for anyone around you. You need to see what true suffering is like, only then can you be redeemed." And then he left me there, in the dark, alone. I felt like my heart was going to pound out of chest. I felt like I was going to throw up. For the first time in a long time I felt completely and utterly trapped. The darkness was starting to close around me and a familiar terror filled me. I couldn't breathe. I was going to die. Wasn't this what I wanted? No, not like this. I would have suffered a thousand painful deaths to avoid dying like this. Confined. Caged like an animal. It was a fate worst then death, a fate that I faced once before but narrowly survived. Now, more than ever, I wished that I hadn't.

**Sorry for the late update guys! I think I know where this story is going now so I should update at least one a week from now on :) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me what you think of this chapter! Give me your thoughts on what's gonna happen to poor Magdalene...**


	6. Taking Different Roads

**TAKING DIFFERENT ROADS**

Within a few days of being imprisoned a realized that I would do anything to return to the light again. I was willing to crawl on my knees and beg Bane to let me out, I was willing to weep and fulfill even his most degrading commands. The darkness never ceased to terrorize and engulf me day in and day out. I felt myself slowly losing my mind to it. Eventually I stopped just wishing that I were dead because it did absolutely nothing to help me. Someone came by once a day to place food inside the cage. I had tried pleading with the mercenary at first but they were clearly not permitted to talk to me, or even acknowledge my existence for that matter. As if on cue a small light appeared down the hall and I moved to the bars. The man who was carrying a tray walked up to them and took out a set of keys.

"Brian?" I whispered. My voice sounded broken. He looked up and I recognized him as the man who had brought me clothes on my first day in the compound. He looked down at his feet and didn't respond, "Please. Please, don't leave me in the dark here. Just leave the light on, just for a little while." Tears gathered in my eyes and I reached through the bars to grab onto his wrist. He was surprised and stiffened considerably but didn't pull away, "I'll do anything. Anything you want. I just can't stand it anymore."

"Okay." He whispered. He seemed torn and uncertain. Obviously he was afraid of Bane's wrath, but who wouldn't be?

"Really?"

"I'll leave the light on." He answered, "But I expect something in return." He unlocked the door of the cell and then locked it again behind him. I backed up, frightened by his sudden looming presence on my side of the bars. He shoved the keys in his back pocket, "Don't worry, I'm not going to rape you." He stated but I wasn't at all reassured. He had that same hungry look in his eyes that I had seen when I had tried to seduce him to get him to talk, "Nah, I don't like taking what I'm not given you know. But I do need… release." He breathed and raked a hand through my hair. I understood immediately what he wanted and lowered myself to my knees regretfully. Wondering if it was really worth it.

"You promise you'll leave the lights on?" I asked, desperation leaking into my voice. He nodded and unzipped his pants.

"You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours." He said with a smirk. But as soon as his sadistic smile appeared it was gone as the cell door was ripped off its hinges. I didn't see the event but I heard the metal bend and break with this horrible scraping sound. The barred door was pushed to the floor with a loud bang. Causing dust to fly up into my face. There was only one person who was strong enough to do something like that. Suddenly the dark didn't seem so bad.

"Get off your knees." He spoke harshly and I scrambled to my feet. Brian was shaking as he desperately tried to _put himself away_. Bane approached him menacingly and I closed my eyes, backing against the far wall. I heard the distinct sound of Brian's neck being snapped and I whimpered involuntarily. There was no worst sound in the world that that distinct breaking of bones, all the while knowing that the sound meant certain death. Loud footsteps reverberated on the concrete floor towards me. I cowered against the wall, "Come here my darling. I am not angry with you." I opened my eyes slowly and saw him standing over me. I couldn't make out the lines of his face. The only things I could really see in the dim lighting were the whites of his eyes. He helped me up.

"I thought it would take longer." He commented as he picked up bridal style and started carrying me out of the cell, stepping over Brian's broken body as he did so.

"Wh-what?" I stuttered.

"To break you." He answered, "I didn't think that you would stoop to that level so quickly." It was then that I started really crying. I don't think I had ever cried quite like that before. I felt like something inside me had shattered and I would never be able to piece myself back together.

"I- I loved you." I sobbed quietly. He looked down at me sharply and for the first time I thought I saw some deep emotion flicker in his eyes. Something unfamiliar. It wasn't rage or amusement. It was something new.

"Did you now?" He regained his composure and looked straight ahead of him as he spoke, "How could you possibly feel such a thing for me when I have done nothing but aim to hurt you."

"I don't know." I whispered, "I just do- did. I thought maybe, you understood me, felt for me, somehow. I'm delusional I guess. Maybe I just wanted to believe that you cared about me so that I could justify how I feel- felt. "

"_Feel_." He corrected me, "Go on."

"I have nothing left to say to you." We were back in the compound now. I recognized the grey and metal walls, the never-ending sound of water flowing, reverberating through the facility from every direction. Finally we were back in the small familiar room with the multiple computer screens and the curtain surrounding the cot. He laid me down on the small bed onto my side so that I was facing him when he kneeled down next to me. He stroked my cheek lightly.

"You fall very easily my little starlet." He said as softly as his mask would allow.

"I suppose I either feel things very strongly or not at all. It's my tragic flaw." Tears had never stopped flowing down my cheeks and I could feel the side effects now. My head was aching and my throat was raw.

"Don't cry anymore Magdalene." Bane brushed my hair out of my eyes, "It's all over now. I've taken you away from that place. I saved you."

"You ruined me." I murmured before my eyes fluttered closed and I fell into a dreamless sleep. The darkness was never more appealing.

I couldn't paint anymore. I sat on the couch and just stared blankly at the television screen all day. I watched the news channel as they covered over and over again what had happened at the stock market, as they talked about Bruce Wayne losing his fortune. And about Miranda Tate taking over Wayne Industries. Bane told me that he was taking me out that afternoon. I didn't know why. I didn't want to go out anymore. I felt no desire to do anything really. Therapists would say that I was in the debilitating stage of depression. These were all classic symptoms. Bane had even upped the dosage of the anti-depressant medication but to no effect. I felt numb. I felt nothing. I felt cracked. That particular morning Bane had placed a blank canvas directly in front of me and demanded me to create something for him before he got back. All the materials I would need were on the coffee table. I hadn't even made a move to pick something up. I just lay on the couch with a black blanket wrapped firmly around me and looked at it. I wasn't this bad before I decided to commit suicide. I wasn't this bad when Javier left me. The last time that I had felt this catatonic was during the year that followed my 13th birthday. But I couldn't allow myself to go back to that dark place. I would only make myself sicker. Someone came into the apartment at around six. I didn't even hear her come in. It was only when she was standing in front of me, her heel tapping against the floor impatiently that I noticed her.

"You don't look so good Magdalene darling." Miranda Tate said with a smirk on her face. I wasn't surprise in fact I was rather pleased with myself for having her right all along, "In fact you look rather ill. Has my _friend_ hurt you?"

"Are you trying to shock me?" I asked with a sigh, "You want me to go through some kind of revelation now that you've revealed yourself as an evil bitch? It's not exactly a blow Miranda. I always did think that you were a psychotic cunt." Miranda's smug expression fell right off her face and I went right back to staring right through her.

"I want you to wear this." She threw something on top of me, "It's important that you be properly dressed for the big game." I sat up slowly and fingered the material that she was given me. It was a cheerleading outfit with the Gotham football team colors and their logo on the front. I scoffed and pushed it off me, "Don't push me little girl, I will strip you and force you into that uniform myself if I have to." She hissed. I rolled my eyes and stood up, then left to walk slowly towards the washroom. I changed into the skimpy uniform, realizing how cruel and twisted Miranda Tate was and how little I cared at that moment. I made up my face and brushed my hair into a high ponytail. Then I returned to Miranda who was standing there with her arms crossed across her chest. She narrowed her eye at me as I walked by her and slipped on my pair of black Converse.

"Why did you buy my painting?" I asked out of the blue. She furrowed her eyebrows and then smirked, "Please tell me it's not because you actually like it."

"I do like it." She stated with a malicious grin, "But you're right, I had ulterior motives. You fascinated Bane. He researched you thoroughly and would watch the news when you were on it, almost captivated. I caught him examining that particular painting in the collection brochure, from which I bought it later that day. I initially bought it as a gift for him but he expressed to me that he wanted to meet you. So I threw the party, where you would be the center of attention, and persuaded Daggett to invite you. If it is any comfort at all he had no idea that you're being there was really Bane's idea. Nor did he know what was going to happen to you."

"But I stumbled upon them, you couldn't have known that I was going to want to leave early or that I would go looking for Daggett."

"No, that was a happy accident. Whether you had gone looking for Daggett or not you would have disappeared that night, one way or another. I made sure of it. You were, after all, my true gift to Bane." Miranda then pushed me out the door and escorted me to a car parked outside the building. So it wasn't random. I was his _reward_. He had wanted me before I even knew he existed. He had planned to take me, to rip me away from my entire life, it was just better that I thought that I was in control of my fate, that it was really only because I was a reliability. He must have been so _pleased_ to see me stumble into that room. I swallowed back tears and sat in the black car with my head down. Refusing to look up at the evil bitch that sat next to me.

"Who are you?" I asked coldly, "Who are you really?"

"My name is Talia." She answered promptly, "Talia Al Ghul." Al Ghul. The name sent off alarms in my head. Bane had told me about the man whose vision he was going to achieve. The man whose destiny he was going to fulfill. Ra's Al Ghul, the leader of the League of Shadows.

"I hope your father is burning in hell." I hissed, "And I hope that soon you'll join him." As soon as the words left my mouth she lunged at me. The seatbelt held her back a little but she hit my head back against the door and started punching me in the face repeatedly. It wasn't as if Bane was hitting me but she was very strong. I didn't put up any resistance. I just smiled smugly, glad that I'd gotten to her. When she pulled back, my bottom slip had split and my nose was bleeding. I knew I would also end up with a black eye in the next couple days. I looked at myself in the rearview mirror, touching my nose lightly I just laughed as if the whole thing were a joke. I leaned my head against the glass of my window and closed my eyes, waiting for whatever the fuck was going to happen next, to happen.

When we got to the football field I was shoved through a dark tunnel underneath the bleachers and blindfolded. I was handed off from man to man who were gruffly taking my arm and forcing me to walk foreword. Once and a while one of them would slap my ass and say something derogatory to his friends. Finally I was pushed foreword onto my knees. The bare skin scraped painfully against the concrete floor.

"What happened to her face?" I couldn't see him but I knew it was Bane. How could you ever mistake that voice for someone else's?

"I- I don't know, she got out of the car like that, I just assumed…"

"You assumed that I had beat her." Bane interrupted the thug midsentence. There was a terribly tense silence for a moment in which I was sure the thug was shaking with fear, thinking that he was about to get his neck snapped. But Bane apparently let it go and suddenly there were too large hands on either side of my face, "What happened my little scarlet. Whoever hurt you will not be breathing for much longer."

"I'm glad." I answered softly, "Then you can stop all this."

"What do you mean?"

"Miranda— I mean Talia, she came to get me from the apartment. Forced me to wear this humiliating outfit and in the car, she just attacked me. I think I might get a concussion." I raised my hand to finger the bump on the back of my head. There was a long silence.

"Did you provoke her?" Bane asked.

"I hate her." I spat, "I hate her more than I've ever hated anyone else in my life. I hated her when she was Miranda Tate and I hate her now that she's at the head of this master plan, whatever the fuck it is. So no, I wasn't particularly nice to her, but I don't think I'm the one that deserved to be beaten up!" I was shouting at him by the end of it but I could only feel calm radiating from him. He was so close to me now, I could imagine him crouched in front of me. He ran his hand through my hair, taking out the elastic band in the process. He didn't respond to my hatred for Talia, instead he forced up into his arms. He held onto my wrist firmly and pressed me up against his body when it started. The chilling sound of bombs going off in a close proximity made me want to shrink to the floor and look for cover. I knew I wasn't going to get hurt though, considering the man who was holding me had probably just set off the explosions himself. When it was over Bane started dragging me along behind him.

"Now, it's time for your big reveal." He said, "Gotham's liberation is afoot and I want to show them who is standing by my side." I whimpered as he pulled off my blindfold and we stepped out into the light. The tears followed quickly once I saw exactly where we were. The Gotham football field was destroyed, thousands of horrified fans were watching on as the massive man stepped onto the world stage. He began to speak, in a booming voice that commanded everyone in the stadium's attention. He told Gotham to take their city back. He told them that this was their liberation. And then he brought out the bomb. I don't know what I had expecting but it wasn't this. I wasn't expecting a bomb that could at any moment destroy the entire city and every living inhabitant in it. I wasn't expecting this deadly trap that made me feel even more claustrophobic then the tiny cell I had been subjected to only a few days prior. Suddenly I was faced with death in a way that I hadn't been since I was a little girl. Suddenly I wasn't going to die on my own terms. I wasn't going to die by my own hands. And I was scared. I started crying, like many of the other people in the audience. Bane's grip on my hand tightened considerably. The other hostage that I had barely noticed until that moment was brought to the forefront of the scene. He was introduced as the only man who could disarm the bomb and then he was dead. I bit down on my lip, which drew a great deal of blood considering it was already split from being assaulted. Sticky red liquid poured into my mouth and down my chin. Suddenly I was being pulled towards Bane's chest, "And this ladies and gentlemen, is someone you should clearly recognize, someone who I have taken a great deal of interest in because of you. How your reporters have stalked and surrounded her like starved wolves. How her precious mental state has been a constant amusement to you, a constant source of gossip." He stopped for a moment to let his words sink in, "This is why I took her in. A girl victimized by your upper social class. A girl tortured by the money thrown at her by cheating businessmen and their useless wives. I was her liberation, her salvation, just like this bomb is yours. Reclaim your city as I have claimed her!" He finished his speech and suddenly I was being pulled back into the darkness. The entire city was in a panic. Peacetime was over and the war had just begun.


End file.
